Mommy's Holiday
by melissaeverdeen13
Summary: What Halloween looks like in the near future for the Kepner-Avery family.


What wakes me up on a gray day in mid-October is the sound of wind blowing past the windows, turning summer to fall and spritzing Seattle with a thin coat of rain that won't disappear until June.

Before I open my eyes, I feel Jackson's arms wrapped around my waist, his face in my neck. He's still breathing steadily, sound asleep. I don't want to wake him, today is our day off and Harriet isn't up yet, but I'm cold and need more body heat.

So, as gently as I can, I flip around in his arms so my forehead is against his chest. I circle my arms around him and pull myself as close as I can to the warmth he's exuding, twining my legs around his, too. As I nestle my face into the crook of his shoulder, he takes a deep breath and tightens his grip on me, dropping a sleepy kiss to my temple.

"What're you doing," he murmurs, still half-gone.

"I'm cold," I peep, voice lost against his skin. "You're warm."

I hear him smile, then he gives me a big squeeze and lets out a tired groan. "The wind's loud," he says.

"It's really October out there," I say, slipping an arm under his shirt to rest my cold skin right against his furnace-like body.

"Good thing you have a big, strong man to keep you warm," he says, bending his neck to kiss my face. He kisses my forehead, the side of my nose, the corner of my mouth, before finally landing on my lips with gusto.

"Morning," I say, and he strokes the curve of my spine under my t-shirt.

"Hi," he says, reaching lower to grab a handful of my ass.

"Daddy's hands on Mommy's booty!" Harriet shouts, surprising both of us as she jumps on the bed in a single flying leap.

Jackson removes his hand immediately as Harriet divebombs us. "Morning, bug," he says, lifting her to sit on his stomach. "You didn't wanna sleep in today?"

"No sleep!" she says, her adorable lisp coming through.

"You're your mama's kid, that's for sure," Jackson says.

"Come see Mama, buggy," I say, reaching my arms out for her. She falls into them instantly, cuddling against me like she always does. Her body is warm and soft, and I kiss her hair repeatedly as I hug her close. "Hi, sweet girl," I say.

Suddenly, she sits up and braces her hands on my shoulders, a serious look in her eyes. "Mommy," she says.

"Baby," I reply.

"Halloween!" she cheers.

I chuckle. "What about it?"

"It's coming!" She bounces up and down where she sits. "I need a costume."

I raise my eyebrows and take a deep breath, then plop her back on Jackson. "That's all Daddy," I say. "Mommy doesn't do Halloween. Daddy loves it."

"I need a costume, daddy," Harriet says, leaning forward so their noses almost touch.

"Well, what do you wanna be?" he asks.

She gives him a blank stare. "I don't know!" she says.

He laughs. "Okay. How about this. We go to the costume store today and you can pick out anything you want."

She stands up on the bed, lets out a victory shriek, and jumps up and down between us. I roll my eyes lightly as I laugh, then push on his shoulder. "Have fun with that," I say.

"You're coming too, right?" he asks.

I shake my head. "This house is filthy," I say. "With you guys out of my hair, it'll give me a chance to tidy up. I want you guys out today!"

"Daddy day!" Harriet sings, doing a cannonball onto Jackson's torso.

"Oh, god, bug," Jackson groans, after letting out a loud 'oof' sound. "You're getting too big to do that."

"I'm getting in the shower," I say. "I'll see you guys when you get back. Do not go crazy at that store, Jackson Avery."

"I have no idea what you're talking about."

"Uh-huh," I say, turning the corner towards the bathroom. "Sure."

Harriet and Jackson are gone for the better part of the day, which gives me plenty of time to get the house back in the state I like it in. I get a few loads of laundry done, vacuum the carpet, clean up the kitchen, and make it to Goodwill to donate clothes that don't fit our three-year-old anymore.

It's almost dinnertime and I'm relaxing on the couch with a cup of tea when I hear the front door open.

"Mommy!" Harriet calls. "Mommy, where are you?"

"On the couch," I respond.

I hear Jackson mutter something to her, and she giggles. I can't begin to imagine what kind of trouble they got into today.

"Daddy says don't tell you!"

I sit up straighter and set my mug down on a coaster. "Don't tell me what?"

"Nothing!" Jackson answers.

I get up and head into the kitchen, where I hear them setting bags down. "Don't tell me what?" I ask again, looking at his guilty face.

Harriet is all smiles as she kicks her light-up tennis shoes off.

"It's nothing," he says.

"You were gone for a long time," I say.

"The house looks amazing," he says.

"I know. Don't change the subject. What are you being sneaky about?"

"Daddy boughted me three costumes!" Harriet sings, unable to contain herself any longer. "He gotted me Moana, Simba and a vampire!"

I raise my eyebrows and cross my arms, looking at my husband pointedly. "Three costumes?" I ask.

"Three costumes, three costumes, three costumes!" Harriet sings, jumping around the kitchen. "Mommy, I'm hungry. Can we have dinner?"

"Your daddy, Mr. Big Spender, can make dinner tonight," I say, uncrossing my arms and heading back to the living room.

"Yep, I… I will get on that," he says, nodding.

I go back to the living room, where Harriet follows and turns on a show she likes. I know Jackson likes Halloween and has been looking forward to dressing Harriet up, but there has to be a boundary somewhere. She doesn't have use for three costumes, and it's a silly, frivolous thing to spend money on. Spending money on one costume is borderline ridiculous when I could make something just as good, but I didn't want to keep him on that tight of a leash.

I try not to let it get to me. I'm not angry or frustrated, just annoyed. Peeved. And he knows it, too.

Later that night, I'm already lying on my side when he crawls into bed and wraps an arm around me from behind.

"She couldn't choose, baby…"

"She's three years old," I say. "She can't choose what she wants for breakfast. So, you choose for her."

He sighs, making my hair flutter. "I know," he says, kissing under my earlobe and giving me chills. "But her little face. It was just so hard to say no to her."

I turn my head to look at him. "You have to get better at that. I don't want the two of you coming home after her Sweet 16 with three Maseratis."

He scoffs and traces my eyebrow. "Baby," he says. "Come on. Give me some credit, I wouldn't get her three models of the same car. We'd get a Maserati, a Ferrari, and a Corvette."

I smack his chest lightly with my knuckles. "Be quiet. You know what I mean."

"I know," he says, and kisses me slow. "I'm sorry."

"Anyway, she's definitely being Moana," I say, holding the side of his face as I roll onto my back. "Moana was practically made for her."

"No," he says, lowering his face to kiss my neck. "She looked adorable in the Simba outfit. You're gonna die when you see."

"Our baby is a princess," I say. "So, she should dress like one."

He chuckles, then kisses my cheek. "You're the princess," he says.

I purse my lips. "I'm a surgeon."

"If I remember correctly, a couple years ago you were a baseball player…"

"Jackson," I warn.

All he does is laugh.

A few days later, the three of us are home on a rainy evening. After dinner, Harriet is playing with her toys on the living room floor and I'm looking at the three outfit choices they brought home the other day.

"Buggy," I say. "Go try on your costumes for Mommy so I can help you pick."

She looks up from her toys, interest piqued, then rushes over to me. She gathers the Moana outfit, Simba onesie and vampire cape, then hurries off into her room to get changed.

"I need help!" she calls after a few minutes.

"Coming," I answer.

"No, I want Daddy! Because you are gonna be surprised!"

I laugh and stay where I am, and Jackson gets up to head into her room. A few minutes later, he comes out with Harriet walking close behind him.

"I present to you, Count Harriet, vampiress of the Pacific Northwest!" he announces, then opens his arms to showcase what she's wearing.

She has on a black cape, a black and red dress with tights and shiny black shoes. She has on satin gloves that go to her elbows with fake fangs in her mouth, and I shake my head as soon as I take it all in.

"That one's a no from me," I say.

"I like it!" she counters.

"Well… it's up to you," I say. "But I wanna see the others."

Next, she comes out dressed as Moana, wearing a light-colored patterned skirt and an orange top that shows the tiniest amount of midriff, a red and green flower crown atop her curls.

"This is darling," I say, then look to Jackson. "She looks perfect."

Harriet stretches her arms out wide and starts to sing. "If I go there's just no telling how far I'll go!"

"See," I say. "She loves it."

"Try on Simba, baby," Jackson says.

She disappears back into her room, then comes out wearing a tan onesie with a thick mane that is admittedly adorable. Jackson's smile almost breaks his face in two as he hurries over to his daughter, scooping her little body into his arms and lifting her up like in the movie.

"The queen of the Pride Lands!" he bellows.

Harriet erupts into a fit of contagious giggles, and Jackson releases her into a cradled position as he tickles her belly.

"So, what's it gonna be, bug? Huh? Huh?"

"I don't know!" she giggles, kicking and writhing. "I don't know yet, Daddy!"

He puts her down and she scampers back to the living room, where she picks back up her toys still dressed in the Simba outfit. Jackson saunters over to me as I watch her and slides an arm around my waist, pulling my body flush to his.

"You have to admit, they're all precious," he says.

" _She's_ precious," I say. "She'd make anything look cute."

"True," he says. "She got that from you."

"Don't butter me up," I say.

"Why?" he asks slyly.

"I know you're still thinking about the baseball outfit," I say.

He laughs, dropping his forehead to my shoulder. "I just wanna see it one more time," he says. "I'll do anything."

I quirk my eyebrow. "Anything?"

He nods.

"I've really been needing a massage," I say, rolling my shoulders for effect. "That might win you a trip down memory lane."

"How about you wear the baseball outfit while I give you one?" he asks.

I contemplate that with his fingers on my waist, squeezing my skin to urge me along. "Fine," I say.

"Hattie," Jackson says, standing up straight. "Time for bed!"

I laugh and retreat to our bedroom while Jackson lays our daughter down, and stand on a chair to grab the outfit from where it's stored in the closet. While rolling my eyes in good humor at my husband, I open the lid to the box and see all the pieces still there; the hat, the jersey, the thigh-high socks.

I put everything on, tugging at the bottom of the jersey that reaches my mid-thigh, not remembering it being this short. I make sure the socks are positioned right, but decide to forego the hat. My guess is that it'll get ditched anyway.

I recline on our bed and wait for him, relishing the look on his face once he walks through the door. "Holy shit," he says, eyes lighting up. "It's better than I remembered."

"My muscles are so sore, coach," I say, batting my eyelashes. "Can you do something about it?"

He smiles devilishly as he climbs onto the bed, flipping me over easily to rest on my stomach. "You're such a fox," he says, hands moving fluidly over my shoulders. I relax, lying my cheek on top of my folded hands, and arch my back as he moves lower

"Oh, god, that feels good," I say, pressing my forehead against my wrists. "Mmm… right there. Harder, please, Jackson, that knot…"

He puts more of his weight on my lower back and I can't help the sounds that escape me. I lift my ass up a little bit and feel something poke me when I do.

"I feel your hard-on," I murmur, lips moving against the skin of my hand.

"When you push your little ass into my crotch, that's what happens," he says, still massaging.

"Mm… you know what," I say. "My butt's really been hurting too, lately."

He chuckles. "Your ass?"

"Uh-huh," I say. "I think you should probably massage there, too."

"Have I ever told you how amazing you are at subtlety?" he asks, laughing as he flips the bottom of my jersey up. "Oh, shit. April. No underwear?"

"Didn't see the point."

"I'm glad we're on the same wavelength," he says, and suddenly I feel his mouth on the round of my ass, then his teeth.

"Geez," I breathe, and he grips two handfuls of the skin tight in his hands.

"God, you're hot," he says, smacking the side of it lightly so it bounces back. "So damn hot."

"Jackson," I say, hinting as I lift my hips and arch my back.

I hear him hurry out of his pants, and only moments later is he holding my hip creases in his hands and pushing inside me. I close my eyes as my cheek is pressed against the comforter, and he overlaps my back with his own strong body to kiss the side of my neck.

"You're so tight," he says, rhythmically pumping. "God, you're so sexy, April. So…fuckin'...sexy."

After a while, he flips me over so I'm on my back, neither of us having come yet. Before he re-enters my body, he runs his hands up my thigh-high socks and snaps the stretchy part near my pulsating core.

"These are amazing," he says, kissing what little skin they don't cover on my inner thighs.

The look in his eyes tells me he could eat me alive if I let him. I love that about us - we've been together for years, yet our hunger for each other is still hot as ever.

We're both smiling when he sinks inside me again, palming my breasts under the jersey he didn't bother taking off. Going along with the roleplay that I know excites him, I bite my lip and say, "Coach, was I good during the game today?"

He clenches his jaw. "You're my star player," he says, shoving his hips against mine. "And the star player deserves… special treatment."

When he comes, the feeling of his heat spreading throughout my body sends me over the edge. I wrap my legs tight around his waist and grapple for something to hold onto, which happens to be either sides of his face as I kiss him hungrily.

Lying together afterwards, he strips me of the jersey and kisses all the skin he's made bare. While I hold his head and stroke his leg with my foot, he sucks on my nipples and cups my breasts in his hands, giving them so much attention that I almost come again from that action alone.

He loves leaving hickeys and bruises around my nipples, and tonight is no different. As he's nibbling on my skin, a jolt of pain shoots up my spine and I gasp, pushing him away by the forehead.

"Be gentle," I say, smirking.

"Can't help it," he says. "They're so perfect. I get carried away."

He goes for the other side, massaging the sore one with his entire hand. But as he sneaks lower, kissing my stomach with plans of giving me head, a small voice cries out in the darkness.

"Mommy, Daddy!" Harriet shrieks. "A vampire is under my bed!"

I sigh, going limp against the mattress. I touch Jackson between the eyebrows and look at him pointedly. "This is your fault," I say.

He gets up, throwing on a pair of boxers and a shirt, then hands me my robe. "At least we know what costume she won't be wearing."

When Halloween finally arrives, Jackson and I get off work early to take Harriet trick-or-treating. Even though it's not very late, it's already dark and she hasn't put a costume on yet.

"Okay, buggy," I say, digging a cloth candy bag out of the closet in the hall. "I need you to go get changed and meet us in the foyer. We gotta get going before it gets too late."

"Okay, mommy," she says, skipping off down the hall.

"Call if you need help," I say after her.

She doesn't answer, so I get Jackson's coat and throw it over his head where he sits watching TV. I giggle as he pulls it off, and he shoots me a playful look.

"She's getting ready," I say.

"What'd she pick?" he asks.

"Don't know," I say. "She's gonna surprise us."

Harriet is upstairs for a long time, which makes me wonder what's going on. I rest my hand on the stair railing and look up, waiting to see her at the top.

"Everything okay up there?" I ask.

"Yes!" she answers.

"Okay…" I say, then go join Jackson on the couch where we sit and wait for her.

A few minutes later, there are finally footsteps on the stairs. When they reach the bottom, I ask, "So, what did you decide?"

I turn around and gasp, a wide smile painted on my lips. Instead of Moana, Simba, or a vampire, Harriet is dressed in a pair of her own leggings and one of my dark blue scrub tops with my badge still attached, an old stethoscope around her neck. She's beaming, so proud, as she stands before us.

"Can I be Mommy for Halloween?" she asks, dimples popping.

I stand up from the couch and scoop my daughter into my arms, twirling around so her legs spin. I kiss her cheeks and hug her tight, both of us giggling. She had a handful of choices laid before her, but she chose to dress up as me.

"Of course you can," I say.


End file.
